SECOND PERIOD OF HUMANISM
Intricacy of the Subject -- Division into Four Periods --
Place of Florence -- Social Conditions favourable to Culture
-- Palla degli Strozzi -- His Encouragement of Greek Studies
-- Plan of a Public Library -- His Exile -- Cosimo de'
Medici -- His Patronage of Learning -- Political Character
-- Love of Building -- Generosity to Students -- Foundation
of Libraries -- Vespasiano and Thomas of Sarzana -- Niccolo
de' Niccoli -- His Collection of Codices -- Description of
his Mode of Life -- His Fame as a Latinist -- Lionardo Bruni
-- His Biography -- Translations from the Greek -- Latin
Treatises and Histories -- His Burial in Santa Croce --
Carlo Aretino -- Fame as a Lecturer -- The Florentine
Chancery -- Matteo Palmieri -- Giannozzo Manetti -- His
Hebrew Studies -- His Public Career -- His Eloquence --
Manetti ruined by the Medici -- His Life in Exile at Naples
-- Estimate of his Talents -- Ambrogio Traversari -- Study
of Greek Fathers -- General of the Camaldolese Order --
Humanism and Monasticism -- The Council of Florence --
Florentine Opinion about the Greeks -- Gemistus Pletho --
His Life -- His Philosophy -- His Influence at Florence --
Cosimo de' Medici and the Florentine Academy -- Study of
Plato -- Pletho's Writings -- Platonists and Aristotelians
in Italy and Greece -- Bessarion -- His Patronage of Greek
Refugees in Rome -- Humanism in the Smaller Republics -- In
Venice.
The great difficulty with which a critic desirous of rendering a
succinct account of this phase of Italian culture has to deal, is the
variety and complexity of the subject. It is easy to perceive the
unity of the humanistic movement, and to regard the scholars of the
fifteenth century as a literary community with well-defined relations
to each other. Yet when we attempt to trace the growth of scholarship
in all its branches, the peculiar conditions of political and social
life in Italy present almost insuperable obstacles to any continuity
of treatment. The republics, the principalities, and the Church have
each their separate existence. Venice, Florence, Naples, Milan, Rome,
Ferrara, form distinct and independent centres, imposing their own
specialities upon the intellectual activity of citizens and aliens.
The humanists, meanwhile, to some extent efface these local
differences, spreading a network of common culture over cities and
societies divided by all else but interest in learning. To these
combinations and permutations, arising from the contact of the
scholars with their patrons in the several States of Italy, is due the
intricacy of the history of the Revival. The same men of eminence
appear by turns in each of the chief Courts and commonwealths, passing
with bewildering rapidity from north to south and back again, in one
place demanding attention under one head of the subject, in another
presenting new yet not less important topics for investigation. What
Filippo Maria Visconti, for instance, required from Filelfo had but
little in common with the claims made on him by Nicholas V., while his
activity as a satirist and partisan at Florence differed from his
labour as a lecturer at Siena. Again, the biography of each humanist
to some extent involves that of all his contemporaries. The coteries
of Rome are influenced by the cliques of Naples; the quarrels of
Lorenzo Valla ramify into the squabbles of Guarino; political
animosity combines with literary jealousy in the disputes of Poggio
with Filelfo. While some of the most eminent professors remain
stationary in their native or adopted towns, others move to and fro
with the speed of comets. From time to time, at Rome or elsewhere, a
patron rises, who assembles all the wandering stars around himself.
His death disperses the group; or accidents rouse jealousy among them,
and cause secessions from the circle. Then fresh combinations have to
be considered. In no one city can we trace firm chronological
progression, or discover the fixed local character which justifies our
dividing the history of Italian painting by its schools. To avoid
repetition, and to preserve an even current of narration amid so much
that is shifting, is almost impossible.
Some method may be introduced by sketching briefly at the outset the
principal periods through which the humanistic movement passed. Though
to a certain extent arbitrary, these periods mark distinct moments in
an evolution uniform in spite of its complexity.
The first, starting with Petrarch, and including the lives and labours
of those men he personally influenced, has been traced in a preceding
chapter. This was the age of inspiration and discovery, when the
enthusiasm for antiquity was generated and the remnants of the
classics were accumulated. The second may be described as the age of
arrangement and translation. The first great libraries were founded in
this period; the study of Greek was pursued in earnest, and the Greek
authors were rendered into Latin. Round Cosimo de' Medici at Florence,
Alfonso the Magnanimous at Naples, and Nicholas V. in Rome the leaders
of the Renaissance at this time converge. The third is the age of
academies. The literary republic, formed during the first and second
periods, now gathers into coteries, whereof the Platonic Academy at
Florence, that of Pontanus at Naples, that of Pomponius Lætus in Rome,
and that of Aldus Manutius at Venice are the most important.
Scholarship begins to exhibit a marked improvement in all that
concerns style and taste. At the same time Italian erudition reaches
its maximum in Poliziano. Externally this third period is
distinguished by the rapid spread of printing and the consequent
downfall of the humanists as a class. In the fourth period we notice a
gradual decline of learning; æsthetic and stylistic scholarship begins
to claim exclusive attention. This is the age of the purists, over
whom Bembo exercises the sway of a dictator, while the Court of Leo X.
furnishes the most brilliant assemblage of literati in Europe.
Erudition, properly so called, is now upon the point of being
transplanted beyond the Alps, and the Revival of Learning closes for
the historian of Italy.
Although the essential feature of this subject is variety, and though
each city of Italy contributed its quota to the sum of culture,
attention has now to be directed in a special sense on Florence.
Nothing is more obvious to the student who has mastered the first
difficulties caused by the intricacy of Italian history, than the fact
that all the mental force of the nation was generated in Tuscany, and
radiated thence, as from a centre of vital heat and light, over the
rest of the peninsula. This is true of the fine arts no less than of
Italian poetry, of the revival of learning as well as of the origin of
science. From the republics of Tuscany, and from Florence in
particular, proceeded the impulse and the energy which led to fruitful
results in all of these departments. In proportion as Florence
continued to absorb the neighbouring free States into herself, her
intellectual pre-eminence became the more unquestionable. Arezzo,
Volterra, Cortona, Montepulciano, Prato, and Pistoja were but rivulets
feeding the stream of Florentine industry.
What caused this superiority of the Tuscans is a problem as difficult
to solve as the similar problem with respect to Athens among the
states of Greece. Something may no doubt be attributed to ethnology,
and something to climate. Much, again, was due to the purity of a
dialect which retained more of native energy and literary capacity,
and which had suffered less from barbarian admixtures than the
dialects of northern or of southern Italy. The conquest of the
Lombards passed the Tuscans by, nor did feudal institutions take the
same root in the valley of the Arno which they struck in the kingdom
of Naples. The cities of Tuscany were therefore less exposed to
foreign influences than the rest of Italy. While they pursued their
course of internal growth in comparative tranquillity, they were
better fitted for reviving the past glories of Latin civilisation
upon its native soil. The free institutions of the Florentine
commonwealth must also be taken into account.
In Florence, if anywhere in Italy, existed the conditions under which
a republic of letters and of culture could be formed. The aristocracy
of Naples indulged the semi-savage tastes of territorial _seigneurs_;
the nobles of Rome delighted in feats of arms and shared their wealth
with retinues of _bravi_; the great families of Umbria, Romagna, and
the March followed the profession of _condottieri_; the Lombards were
downtrodden by their Despots and deprived of individual freedom; the
Genoese developed into little better than traders and sea-robbers; the
Sienese, divided by the factions of their _Monti_, had small leisure
or common public feeling left for study. Florence meanwhile could
boast a population of burghers noble by taste and culture, owing less
to ancestry than to personal eminence, devoting their energies to
civic ambition worthy of the Romans, and to mental activity which
reminds us of the ancient Greeks. Between the people and this
aristocracy of wealth and intellect there was at Florence no division
like that which separated the Venetian _gentiluomini_ from the
_cittadini_. The so-called _nobili_ and _popolani_ did not, as in
Venice, form a caste apart, bound to the service of a tyrannous
state-system. The very mobility which proved the ultimate source of
disruption and of ruin to the commonwealth, aided the intellectual
development of Florence. Stagnation and oppression were alike unknown.
Here, therefore, and here alone, was created a public capable
instinctively of comprehending what is beautiful in art and humane in
letters, a race of craftsmen and of scholars who knew that their
labours could not fail to be appreciated, and a class of patrons who
sought no better bestowal of their wealth than on those arts and
sciences which dignify the life of man. The Florentines, moreover, as
a nation, were animated with the strongest sense of the greatness and
the splendour of Florence. Like the Athenians of old, they had no
warmer passion than their love for their city. However much we may
deplore the rancorous dissensions which from time to time split up the
commonwealth into parties, the remorseless foreign policy which
destroyed Pisa, the political meanness of the Medici, and the base
egotism of the _ottimati_, the fact remains that, æsthetically and
intellectually, Florence was 'a city glorious,' a realised ideal of
culture and humanity for all the rest of Italy, and, through Italian
influence in general, for modern Europe and for us.
What makes the part played by Florence in the history of learning the
more remarkable is, that the chiefs of the political factions were at
the same time the leaders of intellectual progress. Rinaldo degli
Albizzi and Cosimo de' Medici, while opposed as antagonists in a duel
to the death upon the stage of the republic, vied with each other in
the patronage they extended to men of letters. Rinaldo was himself no
mean scholar; and he chose one of the greatest men of the age, Tommaso
da Sarzana, to be tutor to his children. Of Palla degli Strozzi's
services in the cause of Greek learning I have already spoken in the
second chapter of this volume. Beside the invitation which he caused
to be sent to Manuel Chrysoloras, he employed his wealth and influence
in providing books necessary for the prosecution of Hellenic studies.
'Messer Palla,' says Vespasiano, 'sent to Greece for countless
volumes, all at his own cost. The "Cosmography" of Ptolemy, together
with the picture made to illustrate it, the "Lives" of Plutarch, the
works of Plato, and very many other writings of philosophers, he got
from Constantinople. The "Politics" of Aristotle were not in Italy
until Messer Palla sent for them; and when Messer Lionardo of Arezzo
translated them, he had the copy from his hands.'[125] In the same
spirit of practical generosity Palla degli Strozzi devoted his
leisure and his energies to the improvement of the _studio pubblico_
at Florence, giving it that character of humane culture which it
retained throughout the age of the Renaissance.[126] To him, again,
belongs the glory of having first collected books for the express
purpose of founding a public library. This project had occupied the
mind of Petrarch, and its utility had been recognised by Coluccio de'
Salutati,[127] but no one had as yet arisen to accomplish it. 'Being
passionately fond of literature, Messer Palla always kept copyists in
his own house and outside it, of the best who were in Florence, both
for Greek and Latin books; and all the books he could find he
purchased, on all subjects, being minded to found a most noble library
in Santa Trinità, and to erect there a most beautiful building for the
purpose. He wished that it should be open to the public, and he chose
Santa Trinità because it was in the centre of Florence, a site of
great convenience to everybody. His disasters supervened, and what he
had designed he could not execute.'[128]
[Footnote 125: Vespasiano, p. 272.]
[Footnote 126: Vespasiano, p. 273.]
[Footnote 127: See Voigt, p. 202.]
[Footnote 128: Vespasiano, p. 275.]
The calamities alluded to by Vespasiano may be briefly told. Palla
degli Strozzi, better fitted by nature for study than for party
warfare, was one of the richest of the merchant princes of Florence.
In the _catasto_ of 1427 his property was valued at one-fifth more
than that returned by Giovanni, then the chief of the Medicean family;
and the extraordinary tax (_gravezza_) imposed upon it reached the sum
of 800 florins.[129] During the conflict for power carried on between
the Albizzi and the Medici he strove to preserve a neutral attitude;
but after Cosimo's return from exile, in 1434, the presence of so
powerful and rich a leader in the State seemed dangerous to the
Medicean party. It was their policy to annihilate all greatness but
their own, and to reduce the Florentines to slavery by creating a body
of dependents and allies whose interests should be bound up with
their own supremacy.[130] Palla degli Strozzi was accordingly banished
to Padua for ten years, nor, at the expiration of this period, was he
suffered to return to Florence. He died in exile, separated from his
children, who shared the same fate in other parts of Italy, while
Florence lost the services of the most enlightened of her sons.[131]
Amid the many tribulations of his latter years Palla continued to
derive comfort from study. John Argyropoulos was his guest at Padua,
where the collection of books and the cultivation of Greek learning
went on with no less vigour than at Florence.
[Footnote 129: _Ibid._ p. 276.]
[Footnote 130: See Von Reumont, vol. i. pp. 147-153, for the cruel
treatment of the Albizzi and other leading citizens.]
[Footnote 131: See Vespasiano, pp. 283-287.]
The work begun by Palla degli Strozzi at Florence was ably continued
by his enemy Cosimo de' Medici. Though the historian cannot respect
this man, whose mean and selfish ambition undermined the liberties of
his native city, there is no doubt that he deserves the credit of a
prudent and munificent Mæcenas. No Italian of his epoch combined zeal
for learning and generosity in all that could advance the interests of
arts and letters, more characteristically, with political corruption
and cynical egotism. Early in life Cosimo entered his father's house
of business, and developed a rare faculty for finance. This faculty he
afterwards employed in the administration of the State, as well as in
the augmentation of the riches of his family by trade. As he gained
political importance, he made it his prime object to place out monies
in the hands of needy citizens, and to involve the public affairs of
Florence with his own commerce by means of loans and other expedients.
He not only attached individuals by debts and obligations to his
person, but he also rendered it difficult to control the State
expenditure without regard to his private bank. Few men have better
understood the value of money in the acquisition of power, or the
advantage of so using it that jealousy should not be roused by
personal display. 'Envy,' he remarked, 'is a plant you must not
water.' Accordingly, while he spent large sums on public works, he
declined Brunelleschi's sumptuous project for a palace, on the score
that such a dwelling was more fitted for a prince than a citizen. In
his habits he was temperate and simple. Games of hazard he abhorred,
and found his recreation in the company of learned men. Sometimes, but
rarely, he played at chess. Contemporaries recorded how, like an
ancient Roman, he rose early in the morning to prune his own pear
trees and to plant his vines. In all things he preferred the reality
to the display of power and riches. While wielding the supreme
authority of Florence, he seemed intent upon the dull work of the
counting-house. Other men were put forward in the execution of designs
that he had planned; and this policy of ruling the State by cat's-paws
was followed so consistently, that at the end of his life his
influence was threatened by the very instruments he had created. At
the same time he exercised virtual despotism with a pitiless tenacity
unsurpassed by the Visconti. The cruelty with which he pushed the
Albizzi to their ruin, prolonged the exile of Palla degli Strozzi,
reduced Giannozzo Manetti to beggary, and oppressed his rivals in
general with forced loans--using taxation like a poignard, to quote a
phrase from Guicciardini--is enough to show that only prudence caused
him to refrain from violence.[132] A cold and calculating policy,
far-sighted, covert, and secretive, governed all the measures he took
for fastening his family on Florence. The result was that the roots of
the Medici, while they seemed to take hold slowly, struck deep; you
might fancy they were nowhere, just because they had left no part
unpenetrated. The Republic, like Gulliver in Liliput, was tied down by
a thousand threads, each almost imperceptible, but so varied in
quality and so subtly interwoven that to escape from the network was
impossible.
[Footnote 132: Manetti's obligations to the commune were raised by
arbitrary impositions to the enormous sum of 135,000 golden florins.
He was broken in his trade and forced to live on charity in exile.]
Much of the influence acquired by Cosimo, and transmitted to his
descendants, was due to sympathy with the intellectual movement of the
age. He had received a solid education; and though he was not a Greek
scholar, his mind was open to the interests which in the fifteenth
century absorbed the Florentines. He collected manuscripts, gems,
coins, and inscriptions, employing the resources of his banking house
and engaging his commercial agents in this work. Painters and
sculptors, no less than scholars and copyists, found in him a liberal
patron. At the death of his son Piero the treasures of the Casa
Medici, not counting plate and costly furniture, were valued at 30,000
golden florins.[133] The sums of money spent by him in building were
enormous. It was reckoned that, one year with another, he disbursed
from 15,000 to 18,000 golden florins annually in edifices for the
public use.[134] Of these the most important were the Convent of S.
Marco, which altogether cost about 70,000 florins; S. Lorenzo, which
cost another 40,000; and the Abbey of Fiesole. On his own palace he
expended 60,000 florins, while the building of his villas at Careggi
and Cafaggiuolo implied a further large expenditure. Not a shilling of
this money was wasted; for while Cosimo avoided the reproach of
personal extravagance, he gave work to multitudes of labourers, who
received their wages regularly every Saturday at his office. To this
free use of wealth in the employment of artisans may be ascribed the
popularity of the Medici with the lower classes, which was more than
once so useful to them at a perilous turn of fortune.
[Footnote 133: See Von Reumont, vol. ii. p. 175.]
[Footnote 134: Vespasiano, p. 257.]
Comprehending the conditions under which tyranny might be successfully
practised in the fifteenth century, Cosimo attached great value to
this generosity. He used, in later life, to regret that 'he had not
begun to spend money upon public works ten years earlier than he
did.'[135] Every costly building that bore his name, each library he
opened to the public, and all the donations lavished upon scholars
served the double purpose of cementing the despotism of his house and
of gratifying his personal enthusiasm for culture. Superstition
mingled with these motives of the tyrant and the dilettante. Knowing
that much of his wealth had been ill-gotten, he besought the Pope,
Eugenius, to indicate a proper way of restitution. Eugenius advised
him to spend 10,000 florins on the Convent of S. Marco. Thereupon
Cosimo laid out considerably more than four times that sum, adding the
famous Marcian Library, and treating the new foundation of the
Osservanza, one of the Pope's favourite crotchets, with more than
princely liberality.[136]
[Footnote 135: Vespasiano, p. 257.]
[Footnote 136: _Ibid._ p. 252. Cosimo ordered his clerks to honour all
drafts presented with the signature of one of the chief brethren of
the convent. 'Aveva ordinato al banco, che tutti i danari, che gli
fussino tratti per polizza d'uno religioso de primi del convento, gli
pagasse, e mettessegli a suo conto, e fussino che somma si
volessino.']
Of his generosity to men of letters the most striking details are
recorded. When Niccolo de' Niccoli ruined himself by buying books,
Cosimo opened for him an unlimited credit with the Medicean bank. The
cashiers received orders to honour the old scholar's drafts; and in
this way Niccolo drew 500 ducats for his private needs.[137] Tommaso
Parentucelli was treated with no less magnificence. As Bishop of
Bologna, soon after his patron Albergati's death, he found himself
with very meagre revenues and no immediate prospect of preferment. Yet
the expenses of his station were considerable, and he had occasion to
request a loan from the Medici. Cosimo issued a circular letter to his
correspondents, engaging them to supply Tommaso with what sums of
money he might want.[138] When the Bishop of Bologna assumed the
tiara, with the name of Nicholas V., he rewarded Cosimo by making him
his banker; and the Jubilee bringing 100,000 ducats into the Papal
treasury, the obligation was repaid a hundredfold.[139]
[Footnote 137: Vespasiano, pp. 264, 475.]
[Footnote 138: Vespasiano, pp. 29, 264.]
[Footnote 139: _Ibid._ pp. 34, 265.]
The chief benefit conferred by Cosimo de' Medici on learning was the
accumulation and the housing of large public libraries. During his
exile (Oct. 3, 1433--Oct. 1, 1434) he built the Library of S. Giorgio
Maggiore at Venice, and after his return to Florence he formed three
separate collections of MSS. While the hall of the Library of S. Marco
was in process of construction, Niccolo de' Niccoli died, in 1437,
bequeathing his 800 MSS., valued at 6,000 golden florins, to sixteen
trustees. Among these were Cosimo and Lorenzo de' Medici, Ambrogio
Traversari, Lionardo Bruni, Carlo Marsuppini, Poggio Bracciolini,
Giannozzo Manetti, and Franco Sacchetti. At the same time the estate
of Niccolo was compromised by heavy debts. These debts Cosimo
cancelled, obtaining in exchange the right to dispose of the library.
In 1441 the hall of the convent was finished. Four hundred of
Niccolo's MSS. were placed there, with this inscription upon each: _Ex
hereditate doctissimi viri Nicolai de Nicolis de Florentiâ._ Tommaso
Parentucelli made a catalogue at Cosimo's request, in which he not
only noted the titles of Niccoli's books, but also marked the names of
others wanting to complete the collection. This catalogue afterwards
served as a guide to the founders of the libraries of Fiesole, Urbino, and
Pesaro, and was, says Vespasiano, indispensable to book-collectors.[140]
Of the remaining 400 volumes Cosimo kept some for his own (the
Medicean) library, and some he gave to friends. At the same time he
spared no pains in adding to the Marcian collection. His agents
received instructions to buy codices, while Vespasiano and Fra
Giuliano Lapaccini were employed in copying rare MSS. As soon as
Cosimo had finished building the Abbey of Fiesole, he set about
providing this also with a library suited to the wants of learned
ecclesiastics. Of the method he pursued, Vespasiano, who acted as his
agent, has transmitted the following account:[141]--'One day, when I
was in his room, he said to me, "What plan can you recommend for the
formation of this library?" I answered that to buy the books would be
impossible, since they could not be purchased. "What, then, do you
propose?" he added. I told him that they must be copied. He then asked
if I would undertake the business. I replied that I was willing. He
bade me begin at my leisure, saying that he left all to me; and for
the monies wanted day by day, he ordered that Don Arcangelo, at that
time prior of the monastery, should draw cheques upon his bank, which
should be honoured. After beginning the collection, since it was his
will that it should be finished with all speed possible, and money was
not lacking, I soon engaged forty-five copyists, and in twenty-two
months provided two hundred volumes, following the admirable list
furnished by Pope Nicholas V.' The two libraries thus formed by Cosimo
for the Convents of S. Marco and Fiesole, together with his own
private collections, constitute the oldest portion of the present
Laurentian Library. On the title-pages of many venerable MSS. may
still be read inscriptions, testifying to the munificence of the
Medici, and calling upon pious students to remember the souls of their
benefactors in their prayers[142]--_Orato itaque lector ut gloria et
divitiæ sint in domo ejus justitia ejus et maneat in sæculum sæculi._
[Footnote 140: See Vespasiano's _Life of Nicholas V._ p. 26.]
[Footnote 141: _Vita di Cosimo_, p. 254.]
[Footnote 142: See Von Reumont, vol. i. p. 578.]
Cosimo's zeal for learning was not confined to the building of
libraries or to book-collecting. His palace formed the centre of a
literary and philosophical society, which united all the wits of
Florence and the visitors who crowded to the capital of culture.
Vespasiano expressly states that 'he was always the father and
benefactor of those who showed any excellence.'[143] Distinguished by
versatility of tastes and comprehensive intellect, he formed his own
opinion of the men of eminence with whom he came in contact, and
conversed with each upon his special subject. 'When giving audience to
a scholar, he discoursed concerning letters; in the company of
theologians he showed his acquaintance with theology, a branch of
learning always studied by him with delight. So also with regard to
philosophy. Astrologers found him well versed in their science, for he
somewhat lent faith to astrology and employed it on certain private
occasions. Musicians in like manner perceived his mastery of music,
wherein he much delighted. The same was true about sculpture and
painting; both of these arts he understood completely, and showed
great favour to all worthy craftsmen. In architecture he was a
consummate judge, for without his opinion and advice no building was
begun or carried to completion.'[144]
[Footnote 143: _Vita di Cosimo_, p. 266.]
[Footnote 144: Condensed from Vespasiano, p. 258.]
The discernment of character, possessed by Cosimo in a very high
degree, not only enabled him to extend enlightened patronage to arts
and letters, but also to provide for the future needs of erudition.
Stimulated by the presence of the Greeks who crowded Florence during
the sitting of the Council in 1438, he formed a plan for encouraging
Hellenic studies. It was he who founded the Platonic Academy, and
educated Marsilio Ficino, the son of his physician, for the special
purpose of interpreting Greek philosophy. Ficino, in a letter to
Lorenzo de' Medici, observes that during twelve years he had
conversed with Cosimo on matters of philosophy, and always found him
as acute in reasoning as he was prudent and powerful in action. 'I owe
to Plato much, to Cosimo no less. He realised for me the virtues of
which Plato gave me the conception.' Thus the man whose political
cynicism is enshrined in such apophthegms as these:--'A few ells of
scarlet would fill Florence with citizens;' 'You cannot govern a State
with paternosters;' 'Better the city ruined than the city lost to
us'--must, by his relations to scholars and his enthusiasm for
culture, still command our admiration and respect.
Among the friends of Cosimo, to whose personal influence at Florence
the Revival of Learning owed a vigorous impulse, Niccolo de' Niccoli
claims our earliest attention.[145] The part he took in promoting
Greek studies has been already noticed, and we have seen that his
private library formed the nucleus of the Marcian collection. Of the
eight hundred volumes bequeathed to his executors, the majority had
been transcribed by his own hand; for he was assiduous in this labour,
and plumed himself upon his skill in cursive as well as printed
character.[146] His whole fortune was expended long before his death
in buying manuscripts or procuring copies from a distance. 'If he
heard of any book in Greek or Latin not to be had in Florence, he
spared no cost in getting it; the number of the Latin books which
Florence owes entirely to his generosity cannot be reckoned.'[147]
Great, therefore, must have been the transports of delight with which
he welcomed on one occasion a manuscript containing seven tragedies
of Sophocles, six of Æschylus, and the 'Argonautica' of Apollonius
Rhodius.[148] Nor was he only eager in collecting for his own use. He
lent his books so freely that, at the moment of his death, two hundred
volumes were out on loan;[149] and, when it seemed that Boccaccio's
library would perish from neglect, at his own cost he provided
substantial wooden cases for it in the Convent of S. Spirito. We must
not, however, conclude that Niccolo was a mere copyist and collector.
On the contrary, he made a point of collating the several MSS. of an
author on whose text he was engaged, removed obvious errors, and
suggested emendations, helping thus to lay the foundations of modern
criticism. His judgment in matters of style was so highly valued that
it was usual for scholars to submit their essays to his eyes before
they ventured upon publication. Thus Lionardo Bruni sent him his 'Life
of Cicero,' calling him 'the censor of the Latin tongue.'[150]
Notwithstanding his fine sense of language, Niccolo never appeared
before the world of letters as an author. His enemies made the most of
this reluctance, averring that he knew his own ineptitude, while his
friends referred his silence to an exquisite fastidiousness of
taste.[151] It may have been that he remembered the Tacitean epigram
on Galba--_omnium consensu capax imperii nisi imperâsset_--and applied
it to himself. Certainly his reserve, in an age noteworthy for
arrogant display, has tended to confer on him distinction. The
position he occupied at Florence was that of a literary dictator. All
who needed his assistance and advice were received with urbanity. He
threw his house open to young men of parts, engaged in disputations
with the curious, and provided the ill-educated with teachers.
Foreigners from all parts of Italy and Europe paid him visits: 'the
strangers who came to Florence at that time, if they missed the
opportunity of seeing him at home, thought they had not been in
Florence.'[152] The house where he lived was worthy of his refined
taste and cultivated judgment; for he had formed a museum of
antiquities--inscriptions, marbles, coins, vases, and engraved gems.
There he not only received students and strangers, but conversed with
sculptors and painters, discussing their inventions as freely as he
criticised the essays of the scholars. It is probable that the
classicism of Brunelleschi and Donatello, both of whom were among his
intimate friends, may be due in part at least to his discourses on the
manner of the ancients.[153] Pliny, we know, was one of his favourite
authors; for, having heard that a complete codex of the 'Natural
Histories' existed at Lübeck, he left no stone unturned till it had
been transferred to Florence.[154]
[Footnote 145: What follows I have based on Vespasiano's Life of
Niccolo. Poggio's Funeral Oration, and his letter to Carlo Aretino on
the death of his friend Niccolo, are to the same effect. _Poggii
Opera_, pp. 270, 342.]
[Footnote 146: Vespasiano, p. 471. 'Le scriveva di sua mano o di
lettera corsiva o formata, che dell'una lettera e dell'altra era
bellissimo scrittore.']
[Footnote 147: _Ibid._ p. 473.]
[Footnote 148: See a letter of Ambrogio Traversari, quoted by Voigt,
p. 155.]
[Footnote 149: Vespasiano, p. 476. Poggio, p. 271.]
[Footnote 150: Vespasiano, pp. 473, 478.]
[Footnote 151: _Ibid._ p. 478. Poggio, p. 343.]
[Footnote 152: Vespasiano, p. 477.]
[Footnote 153: _Ibid._ p. 479.]
[Footnote 154: _Ibid._ p. 474.]
Vespasiano's account of his personal habits presents so vivid a
picture that I cannot refrain from translating it at length:--'First
of all, he was of a most fair presence; lively, for a smile was ever
on his lips; and very pleasant in his talk. He wore clothes of the
fairest crimson cloth, down to the ground. He never married, in order
that he might not be impeded in his studies. A housekeeper provided
for his daily needs. He was above all men the most cleanly in eating,
as also in all other things. When he sat at table, he ate from fair
antique vases; and, in like manner, all his table was covered with
porcelain and other vessels of great beauty. The cup from which he
drank was of crystal or of some other precious stone. To see him at
table--a perfect model of the men of old--was of a truth a charming
sight. He always willed that the napkins set before him should be of
the whitest, as well as all the linen. Some might wonder at the many
vases he possessed, to whom I answer that things of that sort were
neither so highly valued then, nor so much regarded, as they have
since become; and Niccolo having friends everywhere, anyone who wished
to do him a pleasure would send him marble statues, or antique vases,
carvings, inscriptions, pictures from the hands of distinguished
masters, and mosaic tablets. He had a most beautiful map, on which all
the parts and cities of the world were marked; others of Italy and
Spain, all painted. Florence could not show a house more full of
ornaments than his, or one that had in it a greater number of graceful
objects; so that all who went there found innumerable things of worth
to please varieties of taste.' What distinguished Niccolo was the
combination of refinement and humane breeding with open-handed
generosity and devotion to the cause of culture. He knew how to bring
forward men of promise, and to place them in positions of eminence.
Yet, in return for benefits conferred, he exacted more compliance than
could be expected from the haughty and unbending temper of
distinguished scholars. Opposition and contradiction roused his
jealousy and barbed his caustic speech with sarcasm. Chrysoloras and
Guarino, Aurispa and Filelfo, after visiting Florence at his
invitation, found the city unendurable through the opposition raised
by Niccolo against them.
Among the men of ability who adorned Florence at this period, no one
stands forth with a more distinguished personality than Lionardo
Bruni. In his boyhood at Arezzo, where his parents occupied a humble
position, he used, as he tells us in his 'Commentaries,'[155] to gaze
on Petrarch's portrait, fervently desiring that he might win like
laurels in the field of scholarship. At first, however, being poor and
of no reputation, he was forced to apply his talents to the study of
the law. From these uncongenial labours the patronage of Salutato and
the influence of Chrysoloras[156] saved him. Having begun to write
for the public, his fame as a Latinist soon spread so wide that he was
appointed Apostolic Secretary to the Roman Curia. After sharing the
ill fortunes of John XXIII. at Constance, and serving under Martin V.
at Florence, he was appointed to the Chancery of the Republic in 1427,
a post which he occupied until his death in 1443. His biography,
therefore, illustrates all that has been said concerning the
employment of humanists in high offices of Church and State. His
diplomatic letters were regarded as models in that kind of
composition, and his public speeches, carefully prepared beforehand,
were compared with those of Pericles. Florence was crowded with the
copyists who multiplied his MSS., dispersing them all over Europe; and
when he walked abroad, a numerous train of scholars and of foreigners
attended him.[157] He moved with gravity and majesty of person,
wearing the red robes of a Florentine burgher, using few words, but
paying marked courtesy to men of wealth. Among the compositions which
secured his reputation should first be mentioned the Latin 'History of
Florence,' a work unique in its kind at that time in Italy.[158] The
grateful Republic rewarded their chancellor by bestowing upon him the
citizenship of Florence, and by exempting the author and his children
from taxation. The high value at which Bruni rated his own Latin
scholarship is proved by his daring to restore the second Decade of
Livy in a compilation entitled 'De Primo Bello Punico.' His mediæval
erudition was exercised in the history of the Gothic invasion of
Italy, while his more elegant style found ample scope in Latin Lives
of Cicero and Aristotle, in a book of Commentaries on his own times,
and in ten volumes of Collected Letters. These original works were
possibly of less importance than Bruni's translations from the Greek,
which passed in his own age for models of sound scholarship as well
as pure Latinity. The erudition of the fifteenth century had to thank
his industry for critical renderings of Aristotle's 'Ethics,'
'Politics,' and 'Economics.'[159] The 'Politics' were dedicated to the
Earl of Worcester, and the autograph was sent to England. Some delay
in the acknowledgment of so magnificent a tribute of respect caused
the haughty scholar to transfer the honour of his dedication to
Eugenius IV. He cancelled his first preface, substituted a new one,
and received the praise and thanks he sought, in plenty from his
Holiness.[160] Of Plato Bruni translated the 'Phædo,' 'Crito,' and
'Apology,' the 'Phædrus' and the 'Gorgias,' together with the
'Epistles.' To these versions must be added six Lives of Plutarch and
two Orations of Demosthenes. Nor have we thus by any means exhausted
the list of Bruni's Latin compositions, which included controversial
writings, invectives, moral essays, orations, and tracts on literary
or antiquarian topics. If we consider that, in the midst of these
severe labours, and under the pressure of his public engagements, he
still found time to compose Italian Lives of Dante and Petrarch, we
shall understand the admiration universally expressed by his
contemporaries for his comprehensive talents, and share their
gratitude for services so numerous in the cause of learning. When
Messer Lionardo died in 1443, the priors decreed him a public funeral,
'after the manner of the ancients.' His corpse was clothed in dark
silk, and on his breast was laid a copy of the Florentine History.
Thus attired, he passed in state to S. Croce, where Giannozzo Manetti,
in the presence of the Signory, the foreign ambassadors, and the Court
of Pope Eugenius, pronounced a funeral oration, and placed the laurel
crown upon his head.[161] The monument beneath which Messer
Lionardo's bones repose is an excellent specimen of Florentine
sepulchral statuary, executed by Bernardo Rossellino.
[Footnote 155: Muratori, xix. p. 917. 'Erat in ipso cubiculo picta
Francisci Petrarchæ imago, quam ego quotidie aspiciens, incredibili
ardore studiorum ejus incendebar.']
[Footnote 156: See above, pp. 77, 80.]
[Footnote 157: See Vespasiano, p. 436.]
[Footnote 158: See Vol. I., _Age of Despots_, pp. 216-218.]
[Footnote 159: These last were then thought genuine.]
[Footnote 160: Vespasiano, p. 436.]
[Footnote 161: _Ibid._ _Vita di Manetti_, p. 452. Manetti was himself
a prior at this time.]
Facing Bruni's tomb in S. Croce is that of Carlo Aretino, wrought with
subtler art and in a richer style by Desiderio da Settignano. Messer
Carlo, who succeeded Bruni in the Chancery of the Republic, shared
during his lifetime, as well as in the public honours paid him at his
death, very similar fortunes. His family name was Marsuppini, and he
was born of a good family in Arezzo. Having come to Florence while a
youth to study Greek, he fell under the notice of Niccolo de' Niccoli,
who introduced him to the Medicean family, and procured him an
engagement at a high salary from the Uffiziali dello Studio. At the
time when he began to lecture, Eugenius was holding his Court at
Florence. The cardinals and nephews of the Pope, attended by foreign
ambassadors, and followed by the apostolic secretaries, mingled with
burghers of Florence and students from a distance round the desk of
the young scholar. Carlo's reading was known to be extensive, and his
memory was celebrated as prodigious. Yet on the occasion of this first
lecture he far surpassed all that was expected of him. 'Before a crowd
of learned men,' says Vespasiano, 'he gave a great proof of his
memory, for neither Greeks nor Romans had an author from whom he did
not quote.'[162] Filelfo, who was also lecturing in Florence at the
time, had the mortification of seeing the larger portion of his
audience transfer themselves to Marsuppini. This wound to his vanity
he never forgave. Through the influence of Lorenzo de' Medici
(Cosimo's younger brother), Carlo Marsuppini was first made Apostolic
Secretary, and then promoted to the Chancery of Florence. He was grave
in manner, taciturn in speech, and much given to melancholy. His
contemporaries regarded him as a man of no religion, and he was said
to have died without confession or communion.[163] This did not
prevent his being buried in S. Croce with ceremonies similar to those
decreed for Messer Lionardo. Matteo Palmieri pronounced the funeral
oration, and placed the laurel on his brows. Marsuppini's
contributions to scholarship were chiefly in verse; among these his
translations of the 'Batrachomyomachia' and the first book of the
'Iliad' were highly valued.
[Footnote 162: _Vita di Carlo d'Arezzo_, p. 440.]
[Footnote 163: See Tiraboschi, tom. vi. p. 1094.]
Matteo Palmieri, who pronounced the funeral oration of Messer Carlo
Aretino, sprang from an honourable Florentine stock, and by his own
abilities rose to a station of considerable public influence. He is
principally famous as the author of a mystical poem called 'Città di
Vita,' which, though it was condemned for its heretical opinions,
obtained from Ficinus for its author the title of _Poeta Theologicus_.
To discuss the circumstances under which this allegory in the style of
Dante was composed, the secresy in which it was involved until the
poet's death, and the relation of Palmieri's views to heresies in
vogue at Florence, belongs to a future section of my work.[164] He
claims a passing notice here among the humanists who acquired high
place and honour by the credit of his eloquence and style.
[Footnote 164: See Vespasiano, p. 500. Tiraboschi, vol. vi. p. 678.
App. iii. to vol. v. of this work.]
Giannozzo Manetti belonged to an illustrious house, and in his youth,
like other well-born Florentines, was trained for mercantile
affairs.[165] At the age of five-and-twenty he threw off the parental
control, and gave himself entirely to letters. So obstinate was his
industry in the acquisition of knowledge, that he allowed himself only
five hours of sleep, and spent the rest of his life in study. During
nine whole years he never crossed the Arno, but remained within the
walls of his house and garden, which communicated with the Convent of
S. Spirito. Being passionately fond of disputation, he sought his
chief amusement there in the debating society founded by Marsigli.
Ambrogio Traversari was his master in Greek. Latin he had no
difficulty in acquiring, and soon gained such facility in its exercise
that even Lionardo Bruni is said to have envied his fluency. He was
not, however, contented with these languages, and in order to perfect
himself in Hebrew he kept a Jew in his own house.[166] When he had
acquired sufficient familiarity with Hebrew, he turned the arms
supplied him by his tutors against their heresies, basing his
arguments upon such interpretations of texts as his superior philology
suggested to him. The great work of his literary leisure was a
polemical discourse 'Contra Judæos et Gentes,' for, unlike Marsuppini,
he placed his erudition solely at the service of the Christian faith.
Another fruit of his Hebrew studies was a new translation of the
Psalms from the original.
[Footnote 165: The sources for Manetti's Life are Vespasiano and an
anonymous Latin biography in Muratori. Besides the small Life of
Vespasiano in his _Vite d'Uomini Illustri_, I have had recourse to his
_Comentario della Vita di Gianozo Manetti_, Turin, 1862.]
[Footnote 166: 'Tenne in casa dua Greci et uno Ebreo che s'era fatto
Cristiano, et non voleva che il Greco parlasse con lui se non in
greco, et il simile il Ebreo in ebreo.'--_Comentario_, p. 11.]
Manetti was far from being a mere student. During the best years of
his life he was continually employed as ambassador to the Republic at
Venice, Naples, Rome, and other Courts of Italy. He administered the
government of Pescia, Pistoja, and Scarparia in times of great
difficulty, winning a singular reputation for probity and justice. On
all occasions of state his eloquence made him indispensable to the
Signory, while the lists of his writings include numerous speeches
upon varied topics addressed to potentates and princes throughout
Italy.[167] There is a curious story related in his Life, which
illustrates the importance attached at this time to public speaking.
After the coronation of the Emperor Frederick III., the Florentines
sent fifteen ambassadors, including Manetti, attended by the
Chancellor Carlo Aretino, to congratulate him. Manetti was a Colleague
of the Signory, and on him would therefore have naturally fallen the
fulfilment of the task, had not this honour been conferred, by private
machinations of the Medicean family, on Carlo. The Chancellor duly
delivered a prepared oration, which was answered by Æneas Sylvius in
the name of the Emperor. Some topics raised in this reply required
rejoinder from the Florentines; but Messer Carlo declared himself
unable to speak without previous study. To be forced to hold their
tongues before the Emperor and all his suite was a bitter humiliation
to the men of Florence. How could they return home and confess that
the rhetoric of their Chancellor had been silenced by a witty
secretary? In their sore distress they besought Manetti to help them;
whereupon he rose and delivered an extempore oration. 'When it was
finished,' says Vespasiano,[168] 'all competent judges who understood
Latin, and could follow it, declared that Messer Giannozzi's extempore
speech was superior to that which Messer Carlo had prepared.'
[Footnote 167: 'Se ignuna cosa difficile o cura disperata, la davano a
Messer Gianozo.'--_Ibid._ p. 22.]
[Footnote 168: _Vita di Gianozo Manetti_, p. 462. Compare Burckhardt,
p. 182. There is another story, told in the _Comentario_, of Manetti's
speaking before Alfonso at Naples. The King remained so quiet that he
did not even brush the flies from his face. P. 30.]
The Latin Life of Manetti contains innumerable instances of the
miracles wrought by his rhetoric.[169] Yet we should err if we
imagined that the speeches pronounced upon solemn occasions, by even
such illustrious orators as Manetti or Pius II., were marked by any of
the nobler qualities of eloquence.[170] They consist of commonplaces
freely interspersed with historical examples and voluminous
quotations. Without charm, without originality, they survive as
monuments of the enthusiasm of that age for classic erudition, and of
the patience with which popes and princes lent their ears for two or
three hours at a stretch to the self-complacent mouthings of a pompous
pedant.
[Footnote 169: Muratori, vol. xx.]
[Footnote 170: For Pius II.'s reputation see Burckhardt, p. 182.]
Giannozzo Manetti became at last so great a power in Florence that he
excited the jealousy of the Medicean party. They ruined him by the
imposition of extravagant taxes, and he was obliged to end his life an
exile from his native land.[171] Florence never behaved worse to a
more blameless citizen; for Manetti, by his cheerful acceptance of
public burdens, by his prudence in the discharge of weighty offices,
by the piety and sobriety of his private life, by his vast
acquirements, and by the single-hearted zeal with which he burned for
learning, had proved himself the model of such men as might have saved
the State, if safety had been possible. He retired to the Court of
Nicholas V., who had previously named him Apostolic Secretary; and on
the death of that Pope he sought a final refuge with Alfonso at
Naples.[172] There he devoted himself entirely to literature,
translating the whole of the New Testament and the ethical treatises
of Aristotle into Latin, and carrying his great controversial work
against the Jews and Gentiles onwards to completion.
[Footnote 171: Vespasiano, p. 465. Muratori, xx. 600.]
[Footnote 172: Alfonso gave him a pension of 900 scudi. He wrote a
history of his life and deeds.]
Few men deserve a higher place on the muster-roll of Italian worthies
than Manetti. He was free from many vices of the Renaissance; his
piety and morality remaining untainted by the contact with antiquity.
Nor did he sink the citizen in the student. His learning was varied
and profound. Instead of applying himself to Greek and Latin
scholarship alone, he mastered Hebrew, and sought to acquire a
comprehensive grasp of all the knowledge of the ancient world. At the
same time he lived in constant sympathy with his age, sharing its
delight in rhetorical displays and wordy disputations, and furthering
the diffusion of knowledge by his toil as a translator. It may well be
wondered how it happens that a man in many points akin to Pico should
have fallen so far short of him in fame. The explanation lies in this:
Manetti was deficient in all that elevates mere learning to the rank
of art. His Latin style was tedious; his thoughts were commonplace.
When the influence of his voice and person passed away, nothing
remained to prove his eloquence but ill-digested facts and ill-applied
citations. Still the work which he effected in his day was good, and
the place he held was honourable. Posterity may be grateful to him as
one of the most active pioneers of modern culture.
A man of different stamp and calling claims attention next. Ambrogio
Traversari was far from sharing the neopagan impulse of the classical
revival; yet he owed political influence and a high place among the
leaders of his age to humanistic enthusiasm. Born in Romagna, and
admitted while yet a child into the Convent degli Angeli at Florence,
he gave early signs of his capacity for literature. At a time when
knowledge of Greek was still a rare title to distinction,[173]
Ambrogio mastered the elements of the language and studied the Greek
Fathers in the original. His cell became the meeting-place of learned
men, where Cosimo and Lorenzo de' Medici, the stately Bruni and the
sombre Marsuppini, joined with caustic Niccoli and lively Poggio in
earnest conversation. His voluminous correspondence connected him with
students in all parts of Italy; nor was there any important discovery
of MSS. or plan for library or university in which he did not take his
part among the first.
[Footnote 173: Niccolo de' Niccoli, it must be remembered, was not a
Grecian. Ambrogio used to insert the Greek words into his transcripts
of Latin codices.]
It seemed as though he were destined to pursue a peaceful student's
life among his books; and for this career nature had marked out the
little, meagre, lively, and laborious man. To be eminent in
scholarship, however, and to avoid the burdens of celebrity, was
impossible in that age. Eugenius IV., while resident in Florence, was
so impressed with his literary eminence and strength of character that
he made him General of the Camaldolese Order in 1431; and from this
time forward Traversari's life was divided between public duties, for
which he was scarcely fitted, and private studies that absorbed his
deepest interests. He presented the curious spectacle of a monk
distracted between the scruples of the cloister and the wider claims
of humanism, who showed one mind to his Order and another to his
literary friends. He made a point of never citing heathen poets in his
writings, as though the verses of Homer or of Virgil were inconsistent
with the sobriety of a Christian; yet his anxiety to round his style
with Ciceronian phrases, and to bequeath models of pure Latinity in
his epistles to posterity, proved how much he valued literary graces.
Having vowed to consecrate his talents to the services of
ecclesiastical learning, he undertook the translation of Diogenes
Laertius, at Cosimo's request, with reluctance, and performed the task
with bitter self-bemoaning. In his person we witness the conflict of
the humanistic spirit with ecclesiastical tradition--a conflict in
which the former was destined to achieve a complete and memorable
victory.
These men--Niccoli, Bruni, Marsuppini, Manetti, and Traversari--formed
the literary oligarchy who surrounded Cosimo de' Medici, and through
their industry and influence restored the studies of antiquity at
Florence. While they were carrying on the work of revival, each in his
own sphere, with impassioned energy, a combination of external
circumstances gave fresh impulse to their activity. Eugenius IV.,
having been expelled from Rome in 1434, had fixed his headquarters in
Florence, whither in 1438 he transferred the Council which had first
been opened at Ferrara for negotiating the union of the Greek and
Latin Churches. The Emperor of the East, John Palæologus, surrounded
by his theologians and scribes, together with the Pope of Rome, on
whom a train of cardinals and secretaries attended, now took up their
quarters in the city of the Medici. A temporary building at Santa
Maria Novella was erected for the sessions of the Council, and for
several months Florence entertained as guests the chiefs of the two
great sections of Christendom. Unimportant as were the results, both
political and ecclesiastical, of this Council, the meeting of the
Eastern and the Western powers in conclave vividly impressed the
imagination of the Florentines, and communicated a more than transient
impulse to their intellectual energies. Italy was on the eve of
becoming not only the depositary of Greek learning, but also the sole
interpreter of the Greek spirit to the modern world. Fifteen years
after the closing of the Council, the thread which had connected
Byzantium with Athens through an unbroken series of historical
traditions, was snapped; already it was beginning to be felt in Europe
that nothing but the ghost of Greek culture survived upon the shores
of the Bosphorus, and that if the genius of antiquity was to
illuminate the modern world, the light must dawn in Italy.[174]
[Footnote 174: See the emphatic words of Poliziano, quoted by Voigt,
p. 189, on the revival of extinct Hellenism by the Florentines, and on
their fluent command of the Attic idiom.]
The feelings with which the Florentines regarded their Greek guests
were strangely mingled. While honouring them as the last scions of the
noblest nation of the past, as the authentic teachers of Hellenic
learning and the masters of the Attic tongue, they despised their
empty vanity, their facile apostasy, their trivial pedantry, their
personal absurdities. The long beards, trailing mantles, painted
eyebrows, and fantastic headgear of the Byzantine sophists moved the
laughter of the common folk, accustomed to the grave and simple
_lucco_ of their own burghers. In vain did Vespasiano tell them that
this costume descended from august antiquity through fifteen centuries
of unchanged fashion.[175] The more educated citizens, again, soon
discovered that the erudition of these strangers was but shallow, and
that their magnificent pretensions reduced themselves to the power of
speaking the emasculated Greek, which formed their mother tongue, with
fluency. The truth is that, however necessary the Byzantines were at
the very outset of the Revival of Learning, Greek studies owed less to
their traditional lore than to the curiosity of Italian scholars. The
beggarly elements of grammar, caligraphy, and bibliographical
knowledge were supplied by the Greeks; but it was not Chrysoloras
even, nor yet Argyropoulos, so much as Ficino and Aldo, Palla degli
Strozzi and Cosimo de' Medici, who opened the literature of Athens to
the comprehension of the modern world.
[Footnote 175: See the curious passage in the _Vita di Eugenio IV.,
Papa_, p. 14.]
Some exceptions must be made to these remarks; for it is not certain
that, without guidance, the Florentines would have made that rapid
progress in philosophical studies which contrasts so singularly with
their comparative neglect of the Attic dramatists. Gemistos Plethon in
particular stands forth as a man who combined real knowledge with
natural eloquence, and who materially affected the whole course of the
Renaissance by directing the intelligence of the Florentines to Plato.
Inasmuch as Plethon's residence in Italy during the session of the
Council formed a decisive epoch in the Revival of Learning, to pass
him by without some detailed notice would be to omit one of the most
interesting episodes in the history of the fifteenth century. At the
same time, his biography so well illustrates the state of thought in
the Greek Empire at the moment of its fall, as well as the
speculations which interested philosophic intellects at that period
in Italy, that I trust the following digression will be judged
excusable.
Georgios Gemistos was born of noble parents at Byzantium about the
year 1355.[176] During a long lifetime, chiefly spent in the Morea, he
witnessed all the miseries that racked his country through its
lingering agony of a hundred years, and died at last in 1450, just
before the final downfall of the Greek Empire. Of his early life
little is known beyond the fact that he left Constantinople as a young
man in order to study philosophy at Brusa. Brusa and Adrianopolis, at
that time the two Western seats of the Mahommedan power, out-rivalled
Byzantium in culture, while the mental vigour of the Mussulmans was
far in advance of that of their effete neighbours. The young Greek,
who seems already to have lost his faith in Christianity, was
attracted to the Moslem Court by Elissaios, a sage of Jewish birth.
From this teacher he learned what then passed for the doctrines of
Zoroaster. After quitting Brusa, Gemistos settled at Mistra in the
Peloponnese, upon the site of ancient Sparta, where with some
interruptions he continued to reside until his death. The Greek
Emperor was still nominally lord of the Morea, though the conquests of
Frankish Crusaders and the incursions of the Turks had rendered his
rule feeble. Gemistos, who enjoyed the confidence of the Imperial
House, was made a judge at Mistra, and thus obtained clear insight
into the causes of the decadence of the Hellenic race upon its ancient
soil. The picture he draws of the anarchy and immorality of the
peninsula is frightful. He also professed philosophy, and at the age
of thirty-three became a teacher of repute. The views he formed
concerning the corruption of the Greek Church and the degradation of
the Greek people, combined with his philosophical opinions, inspired
him with the visionary ambition of reforming the creed, the ethics,
and the political conditions of Hellas on a Pagan basis. There is
something ludicrous as well as sad in the spectacle of this sophist,
nourishing the vain fancy that he might coin a complete religious
system, which should supersede Christianity and restore vigour to the
decayed body of the Greek Empire. In the dotage of Hellenism Gemistos
discovered no new principle of vitality, but returned to the
speculative mysticism of the Neoplatonists. Their attempt at a Pagan
revival had failed long ago in Alexandria, while force still remained
to the Greek race, and while the Christian Church was still
comparatively ill-assured. To propose it as a panacea in the year 1400
for the evils of the Empire threatened by the Turks was mere
childishness. Perhaps it is doing the sage injustice to treat his
system seriously. Charity prompts us to regard it as a plaything
invented for the amusement of his leisure hours. Yet nothing can be
graver than his own language and that of his disciples.
[Footnote 176: I owe the greater part of the facts presented in this
sketch of Gemistos to Fritz Schultze's _Geschichte der Philosophie der
Renaissance_, vol. i.]
The work in which he embodied his doctrine was called 'The
Laws'--[Greek: hê tôn nomôn syngraphê], or simply [Greek: nomoi]. It
comprised a metaphysical system, the outlines of a new religion, an
elaborate psychology and theory of ethics, and a scheme of political
administration. According to his notions, there is one Supreme God,
Zeus, the absolute and eternal reality, existing as homogeneous and
undiscriminated Being, Will, Activity, and Power. Zeus begets
everlasting Ideas, or Gods of the second order; and these gods, to
whom Gemistos gave the name of Greek divinities, constitute a
hierarchy corresponding to the abstract notions of his logic. With the
object of harmonising the double series of immortal and mortal
existences they are subdivided, by a singularly clumsy contrivance,
into genuine and spurious children of Zeus. First among the genuine
sons stands Poseidon, the idea of ideas, the logical _summum genus_,
who includes within himself the intellectual universe potentially.
Next in rank is Hera, the female deity, created immediately by Zeus,
but by a second act, and therefore inferior to Poseidon. These two are
the primordial authors of the world as it exists. After them come
three series, each of five deities, whereof the first set, including
Apollo, Artemis, Hephæstus, Dionysus, and Athena, represent the most
general categories. The second set, among whom we find Atlas and
Pluto, are the ideas of immortal substance existing for ever in the
world of living beings. The third, which reckons among others Hecate
and Hestia, are the ideas of immortal substance existing for ever in
the inanimate world. Next in the descending order come the spurious
offspring of Zeus, or Titans, two of whom, Cronos and Aphrodite, are
the ideas respectively of form and matter in things subject to decay
and dissolution; while Koré, Pan, and Demeter are the specific ideas
of men, beasts, and plants. Hitherto we have been recording the
genealogy of divine beings subject to no laws of time or change, who
are, in fact, pure thoughts or logical entities. We arrive in the last
place at deities of the third degree, the genuine and the spurious
children, no longer of Zeus, but of Poseidon, chieftain of the second
order of the hierarchy. The planets and the fixed stars constitute the
higher of these inferior powers, while the dæmons fill the lowest
class of all. At the very bottom of the scale, below the gods of every
quality, stand men, beasts, plants, and the inorganic world.
It will be perceived that this scheme is bastard Neoplatonism--a
mystical fusion of Greek mythology and Greek logic, whereby the
products of speculative analysis are hypostasised as divine persons.
Of many difficulties patent in his doctrine Gemistos offered no
solution. How, for example, can we ascribe to Zeus the procreation of
spurious as well as genuine offspring? It is possible that the
philosopher, if questioned on such topics, would have fallen back on
the convenient theory of progressively diminished efficacy in the
creative act; for though he guards against adopting the hypothesis of
emanation, it is clear, from the simile of multiplied reflections in a
series of mirrors, which he uses to explain the genealogy of gods,
that some such conception modified his views. To point out the insults
offered to the ancient myths, whereof he made such liberal and
arbitrary use, or to insist upon the folly of the whole conceit,
considered as the substance of a creed which should regenerate the
world, would be superfluous; nothing can be more grotesque, for
instance, than the personification of identity and self-determining
motion under the titles of Apollo and Dionysus, nor any confusion more
fatal than the attribution of sex to categories of the understanding.
The sole merit of the system consists in the classification of
notions, the conception of an intellectual hierarchy, descending by
interdependent stages from the primordial cause through pure ideas to
their copies and material manifestations in the world of things.
Dreams of this kind have always haunted the metaphysical imagination,
giving rise to hybrids between poetry and logic; and the system of
Gemistos may fairly take rank among a hundred similar attempts between
the days of Plato and of Hegel.
Such as it was, his metaphysic supplied Gemistos with the basis of a
cult, a psychology, a theory of ethics, and a political programme. He
founded a sect, and was called by his esoteric followers 'the
mystagogue of sublime and celestial dogmas.'[177] They believed that
the soul of Plato had been reincarnated in their master, and that the
new creed, professed by him, would supersede the faiths existing in
the world. Among the most distinguished of these neophytes was the
famous Bessarion, who adopted so much at any rate of his teacher's
doctrine as rendered him indifferent to the points at issue between
the Greek and Latin Churches, when a cardinal's hat was offered as the
price of his apostasy. Bessarion, however, was too much a man of the
world to dream that Gemistos would triumph over Christ and
Mahomet.[178] While using the language of the mystic, and recording
his conviction that Plato's soul, released from the body of Gemistos,
had joined the choir of the Olympian deities,[179] it is probable that
he was only playing, after the fashion of his age, with speculations
that amused his fancy though they took no serious hold upon his life.
It was a period, we must remember, when scholars affected the manners
of the antique world, Latinised their names, and adopted fantastic
titles in their academies and learned clubs. At no time of the world's
history has this kind of masquerading attained to so much earnestness
of rather more than half-belief. The attitude assumed by Gemistos and
his disciples is, therefore, not without its value for illustrating
the intellectual conditions of the earlier Renaissance. Practical
religion had but little energy among the educated classes. The
interests of the Church were more political than spiritual. Science
had not yet asserted her real rights in any sphere of thought. Art and
literature, invigorated by the passion for antiquity, meanwhile
absorbed the genius of the Italians; and through a dim æsthetic haze
the waning lights of Hellas mingled with the dayspring of the modern
world.
[Footnote 177: See Schultze, p. 53.]
[Footnote 178: See Schultze, p. 77, note.]
[Footnote 179: _Ibid._ p. 107.]
The most important event of Gemistos's life was the journey which he
took to Italy in the train of John Palæologus in 1438. Secretly
disliking Christianity in general, and the Latin form of it in
particular, he had endeavoured to dissuade the emperor from attending
the Council. Now he found himself elected as one of the six champions
of the cause of the Greek Church. For the subtle Greek intellect in
that dotage of a doomed civilisation, no greater interest survived
than could be found in dialectic; and to dispute about the _filioque_
of the Christian creed was fair sport, when no chance offered itself
of forcing rationalistic Paganism down the throat of popes and
cardinals. Therefore it is probable that Gemistos did not find his
position at the Council peculiarly irksome, even though he had to
listen to reasonings about purgatory and the procession of the Holy
Ghost, and to suggest arguments in favour of the Eastern dogma, while
in his inmost soul he equally despised the combatants on either side.
The effect he produced outside the Council was far more flattering
than the part he had to play within the walls of Santa Maria Novella.
Instead of power-loving ecclesiastics and pig-headed theologians,
anxious only to extend their privileges and establish their supremacy,
he found a multitude of sympathetic and enthusiastic listeners. The
Florentines were just then in the first flush of their passion for
Greek study. Plato, worshipped as an unknown god, whose rising would
dispel the mists of scholastic theology, was upon the lips of every
student. Men were thirsting for the philosophy that had the charm of
poetry, that delighted the imagination while it fortified the
understanding, and that lent its glamour to the dreams and yearnings
of a youthful age. What they wanted, Gemistos possessed in abundance.
From the treasures of a memory stored with Platonic, Pythagorean, and
Alexandrian mysticism he poured forth copious streams of
indiscriminate erudition. The ears of his audience were open; their
intellects were far from critical. They accepted the gold and dross of
his discourse alike as purest metal. Hanging upon the lips of the
eloquent, grave, beautiful old man, who knew so much that they desired
to learn, they called him Socrates and Plato in their ecstasy. It was
during this visit to Florence that he adopted the name of Plethon,
which, while it played upon Gemistos, had in it the ring of his great
master's surname.[180] The devotion of his Greek disciples bore no
comparison with the popularity he acquired among Italians; and he had
the satisfaction of being sure that the seed of Platonic philosophy
sown by him would spring up in the rich soil of those powerful and
eager minds. Cosimo de' Medici, convinced of the importance of
Platonic studies by his conversations with Gemistos, founded the
famous Florentine Academy, and designated the young Marsilio Ficino
for the special task of translating and explaining the Platonic
writings.[181] When we call to mind the influence which the Platonic
Academy of Florence, through Ficino and Pico della Mirandola, exerted
over the whole thought of Italy, and, through Reuchlin and his pupil
Melanchthon, over that of Germany, we are able to estimate the impulse
given by Gemistos to the movement of the fifteenth century. It may be
added that Platonic studies in Italy never recovered from the impress
of Neoplatonic mysticism which proceeded from his mind.
[Footnote 180: [Greek: Gemistos] and [Greek: gemizô], [Greek: Plêthôn]
and [Greek: plêthô]. Both mean to be full. Plato, however, is said to
have been called [Greek: Platôn], because of his broad shoulders or
his breadth of eloquence.]
[Footnote 181: See the translation of Plotinus by Ficino, quoted by
Schultze, p. 76: 'Magnus Cosmus, Senatûs consulto patriæ pater, quo
tempore concilium inter Græcos atque Latinos sub Eugenio pontifice
Florentiæ tractabatur, philosophum Græcum nomine Gemistum, cognomine
Plethonem quasi Platonem alterum, de mysteriis Platonicis disputantem
frequenter audivit. E cujus ore ferventi sic afflatus est protinus,
sic animatus, ut inde Academiam quandam altâ mente conceperit, hanc
opportuno primum tempore pariturus.']
While resident in Florence he published two treatises on Fate and on
the differences between Plato and Aristotle. The former was an
anti-Christian work, in so far as it denied the freedom of arbitrary
activity to God as well as men. The latter raised a controversy in
Italy and Greece, which long survived its author, exercising the
scholars of the Renaissance to some purpose on the texts and doctrines
of the chief great thinkers of antiquity. Gemistos attacked Aristotle
in general for atheism and irreligious morality, while he proved that
the Platonic system, as interpreted by him, was deeply theological.
Without entering into the details of a dispute that continued to rage
for many years, and aroused the bitterest feelings on both sides, it
is enough to observe that Aristotle had for centuries been regarded as
the pillar of orthodoxy in the Latin Church, while Plato supplied
eclectic thinkers with a fair cloak for rationalistic speculations and
theistic heresies. The opponents of Aristotle were undermining the
foundations of the time-honoured scholastic fabric. The opponents of
Plato accused his votaries of drowning the Christianity they pretended
to maintain, in a vague ocean of heretical mysticism. It is indeed
difficult to understand how Ficino, who worshipped Plato no less
fervently than Christ, could avoid reducing Christianity to the level
of Paganism, while he attempted to demonstrate that the Platonic
system contained the essence of the Christian faith. This was, in
fact, nothing less than abandoning the exclusive pretensions of
revealed religion and the authority of the Church.
Before the year 1441 Gemistos had returned to Mistra, where he
continued to exercise his magistracy. His old age was embittered by
the fierce attacks directed by Gennadios,[182] afterwards Patriarch of
Constantinople, against the esoteric doctrines of the [Greek: Nomoi].
Gennadios accused him roundly of Paganism, continuing his polemic
against the book long after the death of its author. That event
happened in 1450. Gemistos was buried at Mistra; but five years later
Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, moved by ardent love of learning and by
veneration for the philosopher, exhumed his bones, and transferred
them to the Church of S. Francesco at Rimini, which Leo Alberti had
but recently built for him.[183]
[Footnote 182: Schultze, p. 92. His secular name was Georgios
Scholarios.]
[Footnote 183: See Vol. I., _Age of the Despots_, pp. 134, 135, and
_Sketches in Italy and Greece_, article 'Rimini.']
Of Bessarion I shall have to speak elsewhere; but, in order to
complete the review of Greek studies in Florence at this epoch,
mention must now be made of two Greeks who filled the chair of the
University with distinguished success.
That John Argyropoulos, a native of Byzantium, visited Italy before
the fall of the Greek Empire, appears from Vespasiano's account of his
residence with Palla Strozzi at Padua during the first years of his
exile.[184] In 1456 Cosimo called him to Florence, secured him good
appointments from the _studio pubblico_, and installed him as public
and private teacher of Greek language and philosophy. Argyropoulos
laboured at Florence for a space of fifteen years, counting the most
distinguished citizens among his pupils. From Florence he removed to
Rome, where Reuchlin heard him lecture upon Thucydides in the
pontificate of Sixtus IV. Reuchlin's scholarship, if we may trust
Melanchthon, was rated at so high a value by this master that, on his
departure from Rome, he exclaimed, 'Now hath Greece flown beyond the
Alps!' A more commanding personage than Argyropoulos was Georgios
Trapezuntios, who came to Italy as early as 1420, and professed Greek
at Venice, Florence, Rome, and other cities. His temper was proud,
choleric, and quarrelsome; but the history of his disputes belongs to
the next chapter, which will treat of Rome. I may here mention that,
during the residence of the Papal Court at Florence, he gave
instruction both public and private,[185] without, however, entering
into intimacy with the Medicean circle. After Manuel Chrysoloras, it
can be said with certainty that the revival of Hellenism in the
fifteenth century at Florence was due to the three men of whom I have
been speaking--Georgios Gemistos, Joannes Argyropoulos, and Georgios
Trapezuntios. Of the labours of the last in Rome, as well as of
Theodoros Gaza, Demetrius Chalcondylas, Andronicus Callistus and the
Lascari, is not yet time to speak in detail. Each deserves a separate
commemoration, since to their joint activity in teaching, Europe owes
Greek scholarship.[186]
[Footnote 184: _Vita di Palla di Noferi Strozzi_, p. 284.]
[Footnote 185: See Vespasiano, p. 486.]
[Footnote 186: See long lists in Tiraboschi, vol. vi. pp. 812,
822-837, of foreign and Italian Grecians.]
Before passing from Florence to Rome, which at this time formed the
second centre of Italian humanism, something should be said about the
state of learning in the other republics. The causes that decided the
pre-eminence of Florence have been already touched upon. It is enough
to observe here that, while the Universities of Bologna, Siena, and
Perugia engaged professors of eloquence at high salaries, the literary
enthusiasm of those cities was in no way comparable to that of
Florence. Their culture depended on the illustrious visitors who fixed
their residence from time to time within their walls. Genoa remained
almost dead to learning. At Venice the study of the classics engaged
the attention of a few nobles, without permeating the upper classes or
giving a decided tone to society at large. Though the illustrious
Greek refugees made it their custom to halt for a season at Venice,
while nearly all Italian teachers of note lectured there on short
engagements, it is none the less true that the Venetians were backward
to encourage literature. They opened no public libraries, made no
efforts to retain the services of scholars for the State, and regarded
the pretensions of the humanists with cold contempt. In letters, as in
the fine arts, Venice waited till the rest of Italy had blossomed.
Bembo succeeded to Poliziano, as Titian to Raphael. Much good,
however, was done by men like the Giustiniani and Paolo Zane, who
furnished young students with the means of visiting Constantinople,
and who provided them with professorial chairs on their return. The
_gentiluomini_ could also count among their number Francesco Barbaro,
no less distinguished by his knowledge of both learned languages than
by the correspondence he maintained with all the scholars of his time.
While yet a young man, he had imbibed the Florentine spirit in the
house of Cosimo de' Medici. On his return to Venice he studied under
the best masters, and soon attained such excellence of style that
Poggio compared his treatise on marriage to the 'De Officiis' of
Cicero. The Republic of Venice, however, demanded more of patriotic
service from her high-born citizens than the commonwealth of Florence;
and Barbaro had to spend his life in the discharge of grave State
duties, finding little leisure for the cultivation of his literary
talents. It remained for him to win the fame of a Mæcenas, who, had he
chosen, might have disputed laurels with the ablest of the scholars he
protected.